


Screams Into The Night

by girlgoneblack



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Ambiguous Feelings, Crying, Explicit Sexual Content, First Kiss, Guilt, Guilty Thor (Marvel), Hidden Feelings, M/M, One Shot, POV Alternating, Pining, Pre-Canon, Pre-Thor (2011), brothel, prank, prank gone wrong, strong feelings, young loki, young thor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-08-04 03:58:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16339385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlgoneblack/pseuds/girlgoneblack
Summary: Based onthis tumblr postby shineonloki.When Loki's prank goes wrong and he discovers Thor's feelings for him, he decides to use it against his brother.





	Screams Into The Night

**Author's Note:**

> This whole fic wouldn't have come to life without [this amazing tumblr post](http://toploki.tumblr.com/post/178929677102/you-seem-kind-of-down-would-sending-thorki-asks) by shineonloki! Be sure to check their tumblr out!
> 
> So, in my mind Thor and Loki are older teenagers/young adults in this fic. Like, maybe 17 and 19 years old?
> 
> This work is not beta-ed nor has been re-read, and English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance for any potential mistake.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Cheers!

> We were happy in our castle of lies  
>  Protected by soldiers and walls  
>  […]  
>  Looking by the window I can see  
>  The raging crowd coming for you and me  
>  Hear the whistle of revenge my dear  
>  We are the ones to die in pain and fear
> 
> _Window_ (Bonefield)

 

   “I am not getting in there, Thor.”

   Thor looks at the cramped, old wardrobe standing against the wall, then at his brother and throws a panicked glance to the far end of the corridor, checking if the guards haven’t caught up with them yet.

   “Brother, it’s either this or we face Father’s wrath” he mutters in a hurried whisper.

   Loki throws him an unimpressed glance, raising one of his dark eyebrows.

   “No, _you_ face Father’s wrath. I wasn’t the one who stole that thousand-year-old wine.”

   Thor swallows up the insults threatening to spill off his tongue. They don’t have time for this now.

   “ _You_ were the one who bet me if I could do it!” he says, letting his displeasure drip from his voice.

   “Did I bewitch you? Did I threaten you?” asks Loki, and before Thor has any time to retort, he continues: “No, I did not. I simply made a suggestion, and you were enough of a fool to act on it.”

   Thot grits his teeth and opens his mouth to argue, but at that moment his ears catch up on the faint sounds of footsteps and on the clinking of metal armor getting louder and closer each second.

   He throws one last, dark look at his brother and pushes him unceremoniously into the wardrobe, getting in right after him and shutting the door behind him, plunging them in the dark, trying to remain as quiet as possible.

   He almost immediately regrets his decision.

   The closet is so small that he is breathing in the air Loki is expiring, that he can see the tiny glint of his brother’s eyes, that he can feel the heat coming from Loki through his clothes and that the familiar scent of his brother’s hair is saturating the air and starting to cloud his mind.

   “Brother…” he rasps out, but Loki clasps a cool hand on his lips and shushes him.

   Thor feels ready to faint. He would prefer to face a whole legion of Einherjar, all the monsters of the Nine Realms and his Father’s wrath than stay in this tiny, enclosed space, his body practically slotted against his little brother.

   “Do not speak a word” he feels more than hears Loki say.

   Loki then carefully takes his hand off his mouth and Thor takes a small gasp of air.

   It’s filled with his brother’s scent – and he yearns for it so bad it hurts. He can feel his neck and his face burning and his fingers itch to grab and take and pull.

   Thor would very much like to cover his nose every time he stands near his brother so he would never be able to smell Loki’s crisp, winter fragrance again. He would very much like to scratch out his eyes so he would never be able to see his brother’s face, his brother’s _perfect_ face, his brother’s forest-like eyes, his brother’s silky hair, his brother’s thin neck, his brother’s slender arms, his brother’s lean stomach and firm thighs. He would also very much like to cut off his ears so he would never be able to hear Loki’s voice, Loki’s smooth, low, sultry voice as he says Thor’s name, Loki’s whispers, Loki’s whines, Loki’s screams and Loki’s cries.

   This way, Thor would maybe not be tempted to bury his nose in his brother’s neck, to kiss him, bite him and take him to bed to make him cry, but this time from pleasure, to make him whisper, but this time only filthy things in Thor’s ear, to ruin his perfectly stoic face and remodel it to a look of constant adoration directed at Thor and Thor _only_.

   Thor is already painfully hard. He can feel his blood thumping in his ears, his skin prickling, his cock pushing against the fabric of his pants and a droplet of sweat slowly rolling from his temple. His whole body is almost shaking from all the tension.

   He plasters his back against the wooden wall of the wardrobe to create as much space as possible between his crotch and Loki and starts praying the Norns for Loki not to find out. He _cannot_ let Loki find out.

   The only thing he would bear less than not ever be able to run his tongue all over Loki’s body would be his brother hating him or never talking to him again after finding out that his big brother is a _monster_.

   That thought is what has kept him sane every day for the past few years, and Thor has since long decided it will continue to do so for the rest of their lives.

   “I need to stretch” mouths Loki.

   Thor tries to swallow the ball lodged in his throat.

   “How long have we been here?” continues Loki.

   The air shifts a bit and Thor can tell Loki is moving.

   It takes him all his willpower and sinking his teeth deep into his lower lip to keep himself from moaning loudly when Loki’s lower abdomen brushes against his hard cock. He scuffles backwards, trying to pull his stomach in.

   A tear slips from his eye.

   It _hurts_. So much.

   Loki doesn’t comment on anything, and Thor hopes it’s because his brother hasn’t noticed his arousal, not because he’s feeling mortified or scared.

   Loki continues his stretching, unaware of anything, every time grazing just the tiniest bit Thor’s hard-on.

   Thor can feel his heart dropping then beating a thousand miles a minute, his ears ringing, his whole body itching and tingling – and he can’t help but feel like this sweet, slow torture is the best thing he’s ever felt in his life.

   At that moment, his brother lets escape a quiet curse and suddenly, his warm body comes crashing on Thor. His brother’s thigh slips between his own legs, his torso heavy on Thor’s heaving chest, jet black hair all over Thor’s mouth and cheek pressed to cheek as Loki’s face hits the wooden wall.

   Thor digs his nails into the wood, shards sticking in his fingers. His brother’s body pressing against his arousal sends shocks and prickles along his spine. He opens his mouth against his brother’s neck, allowing himself to just _breathe_ , his whole body shaking to keep himself from licking and sucking, his eyes rolling back into his skull from the pleasure. Every muscle in his body is tense.

   And when Loki moves to get up, muttering a small “ _Oops, sorry_ ”, the light friction and the sudden cold and the scent and the warmth and the breath almost push him over the edge. The fabric of his pants sticks uncomfortably because of the pre-come slicking the tip of his cock.

   “Brother?” whispers Loki.

   Thor does not reply. He just stands there, panting, trying to stop his shaking legs and calm his thudding heart.

   “ _Thor_?”

   Thor startles violently when he feels Loki’s cool, soft fingers on his lip.

   “There you are” mutters Loki. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”

   His brother’s fingers travel from his mouth over his cheek to lightly cup his neck, and Thor barely resists the urge to chase them with his tongue, to take them in his mouth and suck on them.

   Just one taste.

   “Do you think we can go out?” asks Loki, his hot breath ghosting over Thor’s burning face.

   His thumb starts drawing small circles into Thor’s neck, and Thor shudders and whimpers. He tries to catch the sound before it comes out, but it resonates in the narrow space between them like the cry of a wounded animal.

   Before any of them has time to react, Thor opens the wardrobe door, making it smash on the wall, and jumps out of the closet. He then runs in a random direction, as fast as his painful arousal allows him to go, ignoring Loki’s shouts behind him and the sweaty hair sticking to his face.

   He turns into a dark, narrow corridor and plasters himself to the wall, becoming one with the shadow. He leans on his back, throwing his head up, not even trying to quieten his ragged breaths.

   Thor palms himself through the fabric, chocking on small cries and whines. He slips his hand inside his pants, squeezing his sweaty fingers around his leaking cock and starts thrusting into his fist. The pleasure makes his thighs tremble and his legs weaken, and he falls on his knees. He would love for the moment to last – for the pain and the aphrodisiacal sensation never to end. But he comes after a few tugs, spilling inside his pants, his whole body convulsing, images of his brother naked under him etched into his mind and Loki’s name on his lips.

   His face is wet – he isn’t even sure if it’s because of the sweat of the tears spilling from his eyes. The shame and frustration and anger weigh on his heart so much.

   Thor stays some time kneeling in the dark to come down from the high of it all. No one passes by him.

   After what could have been hours – or maybe minutes – he gets up, and carefully avoiding crowded corridors, he goes back to his room, his whole body aching and his mind thorn apart.

 

* * *

 

   That evening, Thor does not come down for dinner with their parents.

   “Will Thor not join us today?” asks Loki, eyeing the empty space usually occupied by his loud, ill-mannered older brother.

   “Your brother told me he was feeling unwell” answers their Mother. “I had some warm bread and a herbal infusion brought up to him.”

   Loki barely refrains himself from scoffing.

   “Please do go see him after dinner” adds Frigga. “I feel it might put him back on his legs.”

   _More like put me on my back under him._

   “Of course, Mother.”

   Loki carefully chews his fruits, keeping his face carefully neutral while his head swirls with thoughts, questions and emotions.

   His dumb, careless fool of a brother – who would have thought he was hiding a secret this big? Loki had to admit to himself he was very much impressed that Thor had held it in for this long. After all, his brother was very quick to letting his emotions spill and carry him. How extraordinary painful it must have been for him to live with such a burden on his fragile, self-centered little heart. How much self-restraint and willpower he must have had to muster up to resist the temptation for… Well, yes, for how long exactly? Thor must have been training and disciplining himself for a while now to show such incredible self-control in that wardrobe, even with all of Loki’s purposeful little grazes and touches.

   He sure is glad he had the idea to challenge Thor to steal their father’s wine, or else he probably would have never found out about his brother’s dirty little fantasy.

   Loki pops a grape into his mouth and suddenly has a wild though that seems crazy even to him. But sanity has never been his strong when it comes to satisfying his curiosity.

   “I’m going to visit Thor, now” he declares, getting up from his heavy chair.

   Without waiting for his parents’ approval, he storms from the dining room and takes the stairs leading to the higher floors, jumping a few steps at a time. His heart is racing fast, faster than it has for years, the anticipation eating him up.

   _No_. Not anticipation.

   Curiosity.

   It’s simple, scientific curiosity.

   Or maybe it is anticipation? Anticipation to see how far he will have to push Thor for him to admit the truth – definitely not anticipation of how far Thor will go and what he will do to him once given the right little shove.

   Loki arrives in front of his brother’s chambers’ doors, and he takes a moment to calm his wheezing breath.

   He then knocks and comes in without waiting for an answer.

   The room is dim, the only light source being a few candles standing on the furniture.

   Loki spots Thor sitting at the foot of his bed. He startles visibly when Loki enters, and recoils a bit once he recognizes who came to visit him.

   “I heard you are unwell, brother” carefully says Loki, quietly shutting the door behind him.

   He approaches Thor, his feet padding the clean floor with barely a sound. He then slips to the ground next to his brother, their arms slightly brushing together, and in the quiet of the room he can hear Thor’s sharp intake of breath.

   _Oh. Right._

   “Did something happen?” presses Loki as his brother remains silent. “Did I offend you somehow?”

   “No!” Thor quickly replies. Loki feels the corners of his mouth quirk up the tiniest bit. _Guilt_. So much guilt. “No, brother, of course not” adds Thor in a much calmer voice, cautiously avoiding to look Loki straight in the eyes.

   This version of Thor is still unfamiliar to Loki, no matter how long this whole charade has been going on. He remembers a brutally honest, rash, blond boy who wasn’t afraid to show his love and affection to everyone; who compensated for Loki’s closed-up self; who took him by the hand, kissed his hair and led him to discover beautiful spots in the woods so they could spend the entire day all by themselves. All that was many years ago – long before Thor started fleeing his touch and avoiding his affection.

   Loki feels a sense of anger and betrayal rise within him. He has always known Thor was selfish, but to think… All of this, just so his perfect brother could hide his flaws and sins in order not to be judged by others?

   Loki’s hand almost moves on his own. It reaches to cup around Thor’s jaw, turning his brother’s head so they face each other.

   Thor lets escape a wheezing, little sound. His eyes look huge and black, maybe because of the dim light, maybe because of his lust.

   “Brother” says Loki, lowering his voice, and it comes out as a hoarse whisper. “Whatever troubles you, know that I am here.”

   Thor’s blood thumps under Loki’s fingertips. His warm breath reaches Loki and taints the air he inhales with the leather smell of his brother’s clothes.

   “It is nothing, Loki. I assure you.”

   Loki stops himself from smirking at the sound of effort and restraint in his brother’s voice.

   “It is not because of today’s bet, is it?” he asks, and Thor shakes his head faintly. “If you ever need _anything_ ” continues Loki, not allowing Thor to say a word, “just know that you can come and find me” he finishes, and places a careful hand on Thor’s upper thigh.

   He’s proud of how natural and swift it looks.

   His palm wraps around the warm, clothed flesh, his fingers digging the tiniest bit into the hard muscle.

   Thor whimpers, the sound that comes out of his mouth reminding Loki of a wounded animal begging to be taken care of.

   Loki stops his hand barely just in time from traveling even higher up Thor’s leg and from massaging his brother’s cock until it gets hard again. Hard like in that wardrobe this morning.

   He can’t help himself from continuing his little show with Thor, though.

   “You know” he hums, shifting closer to Thor, “I can take care of you, if you’re feeling ill.”

   He smiles his most enticing smirk, looking at Thor from under his lashes. His brother’s mouth hangs open, and he’s panting heavily. Loki notices the outlines of his arm muscles hardening as a small shiver runs through his body. It makes his smirk widen, and he leans into Thor’s space, putting his mouth on his brother’s exposed ear.

   Thor freezes in place. Loki makes sure to just breathe out some hot air for a few moments, so it fans Thor’s ear and neck, and then purrs in a low voice loaded with undertone:

   “I would be _so_ good to you.”

   And darts out his tongue to lick his brother’s earlobe.

   Apparently, this is where Thor draws the line. He abruptly pushes Loki off him and jumps to his feet, taking a few steps back to surround himself with the shadows of the room.

   It takes Loki by surprise, and he realizes that he has forgotten for a moment that this was all just a game.

   “ _What are you doing?_ ” squeals Thor in a panicked, almost manic voice.

   Loki barely stops himself from exploding in a fit of laughter.

   “Is something the matter?” he asks as innocently as he can, slowly getting up from the ground.

   “ _No!_ ” shouts Thor as Loki takes a first step towards him.

   It makes him stop dead in his tracks.

   “Don’t come near me” finishes Thor in a barely audible whisper, his voice breaking at the end of his sentence.

   Loki frowns, genuinely confused, and is opening his mouth to ask, but then realization dawns on him – Thor is probably _hard_.

   Again.

   For a moment, Loki loses the momentum of his whole little show. He doesn’t know what to do. His _brother_ is standing there, hiding in the dark of the room, hard and wanting and lusting… Lusting after _him_. And suffering. Suffering from the guilt and the weight of it all.

   “Brother…” he starts, instinctively taking a step in Thor’s direction, his arm already extending to touch and to _soothe_.

   “Loki, no” cuts him Thor.

   “I was just trying to be _kind_ ” retorts Loki, and the lie tastes oddly sour on his tongue.

   Thor doesn’t answer anything.

   “You must be hungry” blurts out Loki after a few moments of silence. He doesn’t really know what else to say.

   There is a shuffling sound in the dark and Loki catches the outline of Thor’s shoulders moving as he shrugs in defeat.

   “I actually am” he admits in a small, broken voice.

   “Then I’ll tell someone to fetch you something to eat” says Loki, and it sounds almost sickeningly nice to his own ears.

   Oddly, he doesn’t care.

   “It’s already late. I don’t want to cause a ruckus” quickly answers Thor.

   Loki is ready to snap at him. But then he reminds himself that he was supposed to act kind.

   “Then let’s go eat at a tavern.”

 

* * *

 

   After a few drinks, Thor barely remembers how he got in the shady, dark tavern in the first place. Loki definitely had something to do with it.

   He doesn’t really care, either way.

   He gulps down the rest of his pitcher of mead, slams it onto the wooden table and waves the barmaid to bring him another one. His brother, sitting across the table, makes a displeased little grimace and mutters something under his nose, but Thor decides to just ignore it.

   The inn they chose for their late night meal is in a remote part of town, infamous for its brothels and suspicious looking people who wander around after dark. No one really know them here, and this time, it actually turns out convenient.

   Thor glances around him, but there isn’t much to see – a few people, most of them drunk men, and some debauched-looking girls dressed in revealing clothes that occasionally get a customer they lead up the narrow stairs, up to the rooms.

   The barmaid, a plump, middle-aged woman, slams the tankard of mead on their table, causing Thor to startle.

   “Still nothing for you, pretty boy?” she drawls, looking at Loki with an annoyed look.

   “I think my companion here is drinking enough for both of us, thank you” replies his brother, sending the woman an icy smile.

   She shrugs and leaves them alone again.

   “Will you not be drinking anything all night?” asks Thor, a slight slur to his voice.

   “Someone has to stay sober to find our way back home” replies Loki, his voice sour. “And I doubt drinking all this mead will help you feel better. As I recall, you were feeling ill not two hours ago.”

   “Yes” answers Thor, and his lips form a suggestive smile before he can help it. “And you were very eager to take care of me.”

   Loki’s eyes round up the tiniest bit. Thor would have missed it if it was any other person – but this was Loki. Loki, whose face usually remains neutral and unreadable as a stone wall, whose only expressions are cautiously calculated, whose physique Thor knows by heart – and thus this little of a change seems so odd and out of place it takes Thor by surprise.

   Loki doesn’t react in any other way. He just looks down on his lap and ignores Thor altogether.

   Thor regrets what he said. If it wasn’t for all the alcohol fogging his brain, he never would have dared.

   He wishes they were children again. He wishes everything would go back to how it was _before_. Innocent. Amusing. Brotherly. He wishes he could relive those moments; go back in time; pay attention, so this time he would not commit the awful mistake of falling in love with his own brother.

   Thor yearns to touch; to chase away the frown from Loki’s face, to trail his fingers along his salient cheekbones, to slip his tongue inside his brother’s mouth.

   “What are you thinking about, brother?”

   Thor startles, his vision focusing on Loki. His brother is observing him carefully.

   “Nothing.”

   “You were watching me very intently just now.”

   Thor feels the blood draining from his face.

   “It is nothing.”

   “You know you can tell me, right?” asks Loki, and Thor sucks in a breath because Loki’s hand has somehow found his own, curling around it, his touch cool and soothing and electrifying at the same time. “I would do _anything_ for you.”

   _Then kiss me. Kiss me like you mean it. Love me. Break me. Let me have you, even if only for one night._

   Thor feels his eyes prickling, heat pooling in his groin once again. He’s so tired. Tired of it all.

   His love is exhausting him, slowly draining away his life. He just wants it to end.

   “I think I would like to lay with someone tonight” he suddenly blurts out.

   Loki gapes at him for a few seconds, apparently in deep shock.

   “I-I beg your pardon?” he stutters.

   Loki _stutters_.

   “Well, yes” replies Thor, his voice overly joyful and relaxed. “There are many beautiful maids here, I’m sure one of them would be available.”

   Loki’s mouth opens in an almost comical way. He takes away his hand quickly, as if burnt.

   “You want to lay with one of those _whores_?” he asks, his voice unnaturally high.

   _No_.

   “Well, yes” says Thor. “Who did you think I was talking about? It wouldn’t be my first time, and it won’t be my last” he adds, blinking.

   Loki seems too stunned to utter any words. It’s the first time Thor sees his brother speechless in a really, really long time.

   “It won’t take long” promises Thor as he gets up, slightly wobbly because of all the mead he consumed. “Just wait here. Or go home, if you want to.” _Please, go home. Please, just leave me here. Just leave me alone._ “It’s not like you were doing much anyway.”

   Loki looks furious now. His face is pale, his thin lips pressed together, his green eyes murderous. He seems speechless because of the rage.

   Before he has a chance to explode, Thor turns away from him, his heart thudding loudly in his chest, his ears ringing, and approaches the bar counter. The barmaid eyes him with a bored look.

   “What now?” she asks with her slow drawl.

   “I would like one of your finest girls for the next hour or so.”

   Her gaze lights up with a spark of curiosity.

   “Any other wishes? Appearance-wise?” she adds.

   Thor bites his lower lip. This is just too tempting.

   “Tall. Lean. Hair on the darker side” he enumerates. “Also, quiet. No talking, no moaning.”

   He feels even worse saying the last bit. But it helps – it helps in imagining Loki’s whining and begging if his partner is quiet.

   The barmaid looks unimpressed.

   “Tall and lean is going to be hard to find, milord” she says with a grimace.

   “If you have men and if one of them fits the profile, I’ll take him as well” shrugs Thor.

   The woman’s eyebrows shoot up.

   “And your friend over there?” she asks, nodding towards someone behind Thor’s back.

   He doesn’t turn around. 

   “He will be alright” he replies shortly.

   “A real piece of work, I can tell” she comments, making a clicking sound with her tongue. “I’ll see what I can find for you” she continues, looking at Thor. “You go upstairs, find some empty room, and I’ll send someone to you.”

   Thor doesn’t reply anything. He goes up the crooked, old stairs, not even sparing a last glance to Loki. He will have to answer for his behavior tomorrow, and his brother will probably angry with him for the next few days, but he just needs it. He needs _something_.

   He finds an empty room at the far end of a dark corridor and sits gingerly on the old mattress. He then lays back, closing his eyes for a moment.

   He will have to deal with the issue sooner or later. He cannot live his whole life lusting after his younger brother, going to bed with random strangers that bear a hint of resemblance with him to relieve accumulated tension, and lust after his brother again. It would soon become a poisonous circle he would not be able to escape. And who knows what would happen when he finally gets enough of the strangers – because no one would ever replace Loki.

   What would happen then?

   Would he snap and force himself on his own brother?

   He closes his eyes and vivid images jump in front of his eyes: his hands holding Loki’s lean thighs in place or pinning his thin wrists above his head, his tongue drawing patterns across his skin, his mouth wrapped around his brother’s cock, his fingers pulling at his silky, raven hair until Loki cries and pleads him to stop, and his brother branded with teeth marks and red spots from their nights together so that anyone who would dare touch him would know that he already belongs to someone.

   Thor grunts and opens his eyes to stare at the ceiling. His already aroused cock is pushing against the fabric of his pants, his whole body covered in sweat and begging for some relief.

   Except that relief will never come from the person Thor wishes for.

 

* * *

 

      Loki jumps into action as soon as Thor disappears in the stairs. If his idiotic brother thinks he can just leave him behind like that, well, he is mistaken.

   Apparently, he should have taunted his brother even more – just because Thor deserves it. And it is mostly amusing for Loki. _And_ Thor doesn’t seem to feel so awful after all – since he’s in the mood to lay with a random whore.

   He gets up from their table and stalks straight to the barmaid, who’s sitting behind the counter. He clears his throat and she looks up at him, her gaze hesitant.

   “You want a girl as well?”

   Loki almost bursts out laughing.

   “Me? Oh, _no_ ” he smirks. “No, I would like to offer you an opportunity to make a huge profit tonight.”

   The mention of money seems to get her interested, because she leans in conspiratorially.

   “I’m all ears.”

   “See, I love a good prank, as much as the next person” starts Loki. _Always start with a truth if you want someone to believe your lie_. “And my poor friend there, he hardly ever gets the chance to take some maiden to bed” he continues, making a disapproving sound with his tongue. “I just want to play an innocent, little joke on him.”

   The barmaid narrows her eyes at Loki.

   “And what do I get out of this?”

   Loki gets out his little pouch and empties its contents in front of the woman. Gold coins clink loudly together as they fall on the wooden bar.

   “Money” he simply states. “More than you would make in one night, I reckon.”

   For a moment, the barmaid looks as if she doesn’t really know what to think.

   “You two are a weird pair, I tell you that” she sighs. “So, what do I have to do?”

   Loki can’t help himself from smiling, his eyes glinting with mischief.

   “Go to him, and tell him to sit in a chair and put a blindfold on. And that someone will come to him shortly” he adds. “I will handle the rest.”

   The barmaid eyes him warily one last time, then swipes all the gold coins into her palm and puts them in her apron. She then climbs the stairs, and Loki catches her muttering “ _Youth these days._ ”.

   He smirks under his nose, quite proud. This will certainly teach Thor to play on other people’s emotions and making them worry and care for _nothing_.

   The barmaid returns after a few minutes, only nodding at him, and goes to serve some other drunken customers.

   Loki jumps the stairs, two at a time, barely making noise, his steps soft and agile. He finds the only door from behind which there isn’t aren’t any moans and pants coming and opens it quietly.

   It’s dark in there, the only light coming from the small, dusty window and plunging the room in a dim, silver glow. There are only a few pieces of furniture, like an used, wooden bed with a dirty mattress on it.

   Thor is sitting in an old chair in the middle of the room, blindfolded with a dark piece of cloth. His cape is off, showing his bare arms, but otherwise he’s still fully dressed.

   Loki closes the door behind him, a small clicking sound echoing in the dead quiet of the room.

   Thor startles, and his throat bobs, but he doesn’t say anything. He straightens himself, and only then Loki notices his opened legs, as if inviting on purpose, and the outline of his arousal.

   _Oh, brother._

   He suddenly has the crazy urge to drop to his knees, crawl to Thor and take his cock in his mouth.

   He doesn’t.

   Instead, he stalks to Thor, his feet treading softly, his stance light and elegant as always.

   It was all supposed to go very smoothly. He was supposed to drop on Thor’s lap, rip the blindfold off and laugh in his stupid brother’s face. It would have served him right, after how he has left Loki behind, alone in that nasty bar.

   But he only goes as far as sitting on Thor’s lap.

   The moment he sinks on his brother, Thor’s hands shoot up, grabbing his waist, strong fingers digging into the sensitive flesh there, and pull him down in a harsh grind.

   Thor moans at the contact and Loki has to sink his teeth in his lower lip not to do the same.

   His brother throws his head back, his lips opened and panting, and bucks his hips to bring them closer together. The feeling travels straight to Loki’s groin. It’s like an aphrodisiac. Thor’s powerful thighs under him, his hard cock rubbing against his own, his leathery smell, his red, opened lips.

   “You…” rasps Thor, but Loki stops him by grinding his ass against Thor’s arousal.

   Thor whimpers loudly, his hands traveling down to sink into Loki’s ass cheeks, and he starts rutting against him, always pressing closer, harder.

   Loki plasters himself against Thor and lets his body take control. He thrusts his hips in rhythm with Thor, his hands grabbing his brother’s shoulders to steady himself. He pants into Thor’s neck, the smell of the sweat and lust overwhelming there, and sinks his teeth into the meaty flesh.

   Thor cries out in pleasure, letting out little sobs that say “ _More!_ ” and “ _Please!_ ” and “ _Yes!_ ”.

   Loki tangles his hands in his brother’s blond locks and pulls viciously. Thor’s head snaps backwards as he moans in pain, but it makes him grind even faster and harder. Loki lets his tongue travel up Thor’s exposed throat, and his sucks Thor’s slightly stubbly chin, as his brother’s fingers dig as much as they can in his ass crack. Loki can feel his eyes rolling back, his spine tingling, and he snaps his hips forward in a desperate thrust.

   Thor’s mouth hangs opened and he stills, speechless, for a moment, before a violent spasm runs through his entire body.

   Loki cannot really believe what he’s seeing.

   _Did his brother just come?_

   Thor is still under him, his breath wheezing out of his lungs, his hands lazily stroking up and down his brother’s thighs.

   So Loki does the only thing he feels he should do at that moment. He reaches behind Thor’s head and undoes the blindfold.

   It falls between them in a silent shuffle.

   Thor doesn’t react at first. He just stares blankly at Loki, still coming down from the high of his climax. But then it dawns on him. His eyes grow wide, all the colors draining from his face. He opens and shuts his mouth a few times, not able to make a sound.

   “Bro-Brother” he eventually stutters, his voice hoarse and barely audible.

   Loki has never seen his brother so terrified in his entire life.

   “Brother, I…” says Thor, and only then does Loki notice a single tear rolling down his brother’s face.

   He acts before he can think about what he’s throwing himself into.

   He bends down and licks Thor’s tear, tasting the saltiness of it mixed with sweat. Thor shudders, recoiling a bit, but the chair doesn’t allow him to go very far.

   “Loki, what…”

   But Loki shushes him, placing a gently hand on his jaw and tilting his head back.

   Their mouths meet halfway in a gentle kiss. Thor’s lips are soft, hesitant, pleading and desperate. The emotions almost overwhelm Loki. It’s as if his brother is pouring all his feelings into this one kiss, as if he knows it will be their last and he has only this one occasion to show all his love and adoration to the person he cares about the most in the whole universe.

   Thor slips a hesitant tongue in Loki’s mouth, and it’s warm, like coming home from a long journey, so he accepts it.

   His thumbs are stroking Thor’s face absentmindedly, and they break the kiss only to inhale each other’s air.

   “Let’s go to bed, brother” murmurs Loki, and Thor shivers under him, and follows him when Loki takes him by the hand and leads him to the dirty mattress.

   Thor looks almost sad when he makes love to Loki. There is a melancholic expression on his face that Loki would like to chase away with kisses and promises, but he keeps quiet, except for the few soft moans that escape his lips.

   Thor is gentle with him. Loki has never seen him so tender with anyone. He worships every inch of his pale, moonlit skin, kissing it and whispering soft words that echo in the dark. Words of love and promises, of fidelity and loyalty. He sinks into him almost tortuously slow, but Loki doesn’t hurry him. He accepts it with patience and gratitude.

   Thor makes sure Loki comes first, licking and palming and stroking his cock, and climaxes himself after watching his brother come undone under him, burying his face in the crook of Loki’s neck, tenderly stroking his dark hair, and whispering almost inaudibly in his ear some last, parting words:

   “I will love you until the end of times, brother.”

   Loki doesn’t have to look to know that the wet drops he feels on his neck are his brother’s tears.

**Author's Note:**

> So this kind of escalated quickly... I ended up writing a lot of feels into what was supposed to be a short, smutty fic. 
> 
> I actually feel like I've been working on this forever, even though it took me a few days to write it, but it's probably because I kept falling asleep while writing this fic, since I always started working on it really late at night. I do hope it's readable - I really don't like writing fics in bits and pieces, because I feel they lose their flow and continuity.
> 
> The quote is from [an amazing song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QKqnhyABHWw) by Bonefield. I chose it because I find it quite fitting with the whole theme of the fic. If you have some time you should listen to the song, the guy's voice is incredible!
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading!


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